Ava Claire (aka “Nemo”)


Like most women, I’ve never really accepted or been happy with my body. Teased as a youth for being tall and skinny, then miserable because I became short and tubby. Then throw in the fact my body has failed me in some SERIOUSLY EPIC WAYS (11 times as a matter of fact) with all our pregnancy issues and miscarriages, and well, I’ve never really accepted or been happy with my body.

But here I am, more than 32 weeks pregnant with twins. And no end in sight.
How lucky can one girl get?
It’s hard to love something you’ve hated so long, but I’m trying.
I’ve tried to let go of the bitterness I feel over my failures, and appreciate the good that’s come of this so far.
(as complicated as this pregnancy has been)

I’ve gone from crying all night long in the dark, wondering if I would EVER feel a baby move inside of me again….
to lying awake all night in the dark, so I don’t miss one single kick or roll from either one of them.

My heart aches for the mommas that want, but don’t get this. My heart aches for the children that I miss.

I may not be the prettiest momma out there. I’m not, by far. I still see my faults and short-comings.
But right now I don’t care.

I’m so proud of my belly.
I am proud of myself.
I feel pretty.

(it took me 20 minutes to write that, by the way)

I’m thankfor for the family and friends around me that helped get me to this place.
And I’m grateful to have the medical staff I do, helping us along the way.

And I am grateful for the two darling children I’m holding hostage in there until mid-March at the earliest.
I don’t know what the future holds for us (Be Strong Cricket!) but we’re all in this together.
You are so very loved.
Love,
Momma

ps – the ice cream? About the only thing I voluntarily have eaten the past 9 months. If I get a plump baby or two out of this, the ice cream is why! lol. It also makes a hormonal momma’ very sappy.

We skipped sending out holiday cards this year; too much on our plates.
In lieu of that…

Happy New Year!

(I never posted these this summer, oops!)

Before I had kids, there are a few things I KNEW as a mom that I would be insistent about.
1. Leashes are for pets, not children.
2. I’m not going to walk around the house like a mouse when my kid(s) are sleeping. We’re noisy. Deal.
3. Unless we’re heading to a funeral or something, I don’t care if you get dirty. We can wash your clothes, and wipe your face, but that last time *I* checked, those mud puddles are there for you to jump in.

Here’s a peek at #3, after her ballet class.

My Dearest Ava,

You are the daughter I’ve always wanted.
You are better than any of those dreams, come true.
You are my shadow. My buddy. My hoot and a half.
You are sensitive.
You are super funny.
You are a super cute baby bird.
You have dirty little feet most of the time, and I love that.
You are wise.
You are full of joy.
You occupy the majority of my heart.
(You always will.)
You are not napping right now, like you should be. But I still think you’re cute.
You have NO idea the miles of fire I will walk on for you.
You are loved by so many.

You are my best.
Love,
Momma

my new niece, Peyton:

and my little Ava, as Marilyn Monroe:

Ava’s 3rd time bowling, and she almost beat daddy!

Ava’s long story-telling sessions often crack me up. Davez was driving so I grabbed one on my cell phone.
Really not that big of a deal, but I just love listening to her talk.
(Toddlerese translation: last time she went bowling it was to Julia’s bday party. NOW she’s going again, but this time she has a head band. That is all. lol)
(ps – I had to digitally tip it sideways, so the ratio is kinda’ off)

Miss Julia spent the afternoon with us the other day, and when there’s a new adorable kid in my presence, she KNOWS she’s getting her wig on.

For quite a while Ava and Uncle Bloopers* have had a very tumultuous relationship. They fight over toys, he pushes her buttons, she steals his bones… I’ve yelled “Cut it out you two, or someone is getting a time out!” several times.

They scoff at me and do it again 5 minutes later.

Well, now it’s gone to a whole new level.

Ava has recently reached the age where she’s CALLING OUT HIS CHIT, literally. “Bloopies pooped on the patio! right THERE!” and

“Boops took my Polly Pocket and he pooped it OUT!” and

my favorite at 7am this morning (why? WHY?) was

“THAT FRICKEN DOG PEED *IN* the PORCH!” Complete with the Tattle Tone, and finger pointing. I knew this stage was coming, but I didn’t think it would be with the damn dog.

First of all, watch your mouth, girl.

Second… he has a doggy door. Dude, take it outside.

After 4 buckets of hot soapy water and some glares throw his way, he walks over and steals her puppy. That Uncle Bloopers is a jerk.

We really need to have another kid.

I’ve ordered a couple new wigs, to add to my “Whiskers & Wigs” collection. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with said assemble, but it’s going to make me millions someday.
Or tens.

People always comment on how I’m able to capture such wonderful expressions on my subjects.
I thought this mini-shoot was a great example of This Master at work:
Me: “Ava, over here. Look at Momma!”
Ava: “chhhhheeeeeeese!” looking down the driveway. “Boopies, GIMME BACK MY SOCK!!! MOMMMMMMMMMMAAAA, the moff-keetoes are biting on me!”
Me: “Right here, honey! Whoop whoop!”
Ava: (deadpan) “cheese. no more momma. THAT’S MY POOL NOODLE BLOOPERS! PUT IT DOWN NOW YOU FRICKEN STINKING DOG!”
Me: “Ava, one more please! You look so pretty! Like a princess!”
Ava: “I’M NOT A PRINCESS, I AM A MERMAID. AND MERMAIDS HATE BUGS. No more momma.” Flashes big fake grin.
End scene.

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